What a Life I Might Have Known
by Nacho the Greato
Summary: This is Éponine's untold story, from the time that Cosette arrived at the inn to the time of her death. Of course there will be that ten year time skip, cause I'm not writing THAT much. And, yes, for you people that read the book, Azelma is in it. I guess this is kind of the crossover between the novel and the play... but that doesn't really count. Rated T cuz I'm paranoid.
1. The Arrival of the Lark

**Hey, so a few things before you start reading. 1. I like short chapters. I don't like to drag on too long, so I'll have a bunch of really short chapters when I'm done. 2. It begins when Eponine is young. I didn't want my writing to seem too juvenile, so I tried to make it somewhat intellectual (despite the fact that the narrator is 3 in this chapter) while the dialoge will be riddles with accents and mistakes. 3. I love constructive criticism, so****please read and review :)**

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I stared into the eyes of the young girl standing in front of me who had just arrived with her mother. The girl was in a much better condition than her mother. They both had shining blonde hair, but that of the mother was matted and dirty, while the little girl's was brushed and shining in the afternoon sun. The mother was dressed like a working woman. Her clothes, which were more like rags, were old and torn. Her daughter, rather, wore her best clothes. It was laced in what looked like a gold fabric and had some sort of stone, perhaps diamonds, on the sleeves.  
I turned around to see my mother walking out of the door to greet the woman.  
"You have very beautiful children," the woman said.

"My name is Thénardier," my mother replied, obviously trying to lure in a new customer. "We run this inn."  
The woman's eyes lit up. "Can you keep my child for me?" She asked eagerly. "I am in desperate need of work, but I cannot find any because I am alone with a child."  
My mother paused for a moment, considering the offer. "We'll keep the child," she said. "However, you must send us seven francs a month."  
"I will pay in advance for a year," said the woman, digging through her bag to find the money.  
"What is your little one's name?" My mother asked.  
"Oh, I apologize! I have not introduced myself yet. My name is Fantine and my child is called Cosette. She is going on three," Fantine replied, handing my mother the money.  
"Ah, the age of my eldest," my mother said, turning to my sister and me. "Go amuse yourselves, now. Take the child, Cosette, with you," she told us.  
"Yes, mother" I responded, walking over to Cosette.

I took her hand in one of mine and Azelma's in the other. We all walked casually to the back of the inn, chatting as the adults finished their conversation. Azelma and I showed her the swing; she had apparently never seen one before. It was big enough to fit the three of us, so we all sat down and pushed back and forth, giggling.  
A few moments later, my mother arrived, looking intimidating. She carried something in her arms, but I couldn't make out what it was.  
"Cosette," my mother said. The young girl looked up. "Get off the swing." The child obliged. "Put this on," my mother commanded, tossing her the dirty garments formerly in her arms. Cosette scurried away inside to change.  
My mother faced her gaze upon my sister and me. "Éponine. Azelma. You will no longer play with that little girl. She works for us now. She is a servant and you will treat her as such. Do not play with her. Do not talk to her. Do not even look at her unless you are commanding her. Do you understand?"  
Azelma looked at me with a confused expression, but I just turned to mother and replied, "Yes, mother. We understand.


	2. Like Papa

It took a while for me to get used to having a servant, but it was a pleasant adjustment. The Lark, as the town began to call the girl, was growing dirtier each day. She was an embarrassment to the household. I couldn't even believe she was allowed inside to sleep because of her foul smell and ugly visage.  
One day, many years later, near Christmas, I was walking outside, admiring all of the small shops and carts of items that opened up for the season. One of the stands had magnificent, handmade dolls, and as I walked past, I was stopped in my tracks. One of the dolls was so breathtakingly beautiful, I just had to have it!  
"What're you lookin' at?" A man asked me.  
This man must own the cart full of dolls, I thought. Maybe if I'm really nice to him, he'll let me have one for free! "Hi, mister! I'm just looking at your pretty dolls! Are you the man that made them?"  
"Yeah, do ya have enough money to buy 'em?" He asked.  
"Well, no... You see, my family is really poor and we can't afford much. I was hoping I could get one to bring to my sister for Christmas. My parents can never afford to buy us any presents, so it would be really nice if I could at least bring one to my younger sister," I lied quite convincingly. My eyes even started tearing up. I definitely had some of my father in me.  
"Oh, what a sweet young girl! 'Ere, take my best doll!" The man said, handing me the one I was eyeing earlier. "And take this hat, too. I don't need it."  
I took the doll and the blue hat he gave to me, smiling eagerly. "Thanks so much, sir! I know my sister will love it!"  
I skipped back to the inn, trying to suppress my joy. Father will be so proud, I thought!


	3. Castle on a Cloud

As I made my way closer to the inn, I heard a humming noise coming from behind. I couldn't tell who it was, but it was clearly singing. I walked closer and the words became less muffled, but I could still only hear bits and pieces.  
"...castle on a cloud... in my sleep, aren't any floors... on a cloud..."  
I crinkled my forehead in confusion and walked closer. From what I could hear, the individual was actually quite impressive.  
"There is a lady all in white, holds me and sings a lullaby." As the singing persisted, I moved to the corner of the house, not daring to look at who was singing, in case they were looking this was and the beautiful melody ceased.  
"She's nice to see and she's soft to touch. She says 'Cosette, I love you very much.'"  
I gaped at this. Surely the alluring tune was not sung by the grotesque girl we were housing in our inn! I risked it; I peeked around the corner, and there she was. The Lark. She stood there, her broom cast to the side, caressing a doll made of rags.  
No! Surely this cannot be! It is some trick, I thought.  
Just as I turned to leave, mother stormed outside. "Now look who's here-the little Madame herself!"  
At this, the wretch spun around, and the doll dropped limply to the ground.  
"You better not let me catch you slacking!" Mother shouted.  
"Madame, I-I was not slacking... M-my arms just got a bit t-tired," she said, trying to explain herself.  
"Of course they did, Colette!" I say sarcastically, stepping out from concealment.  
"Éponine, come my dear! You look very well in that little blue hat! There's some little girls and they know what to wear and how to behave, and I'm saying thank heaven for that," mother told me.  
I giggled and thanked her, shooting an icy cold glare at the Lark.  
"Still there, Cosette?!" Mother screamed, turning her gaze to the girl.  
"I-I was just about t-to get started again..." She said, her eyes tearing up.  
"Your tears will do you no good," mother reminded her.  
"S-sorry, Madame..." she said meekly.  
"Go and fetch some water for the wood!" Mother commanded.  
"Please do not send me out alone... Not in the darkne-" The girl was cut off by mother's screaming.  
"NOW!"  
The young girl scurried off, picking up her bucket on the way.


	4. Gavroche

I took my new doll inside, quite satisfied with the girl's harsh scolding for not doing her job. As I walked through the back door of the inn, I saw Azelma standing there.

"That was kinda mean, 'Ponine," she said.

"Oh please, Azelma. Not this again. The little Lark wasn't doing what she was brought in for, so she had to get a little roughed up. So what? It's not like she's not going to come back," I told her.

"I saw you take the doll," she said. I just stared at her. "You lied, 'Ponine..."

"And? Papa does it all the time. I'm only following his examples," I replied.

Azelma sighed and started to walk away.

"What would you know? You're only six!" I say as she walked away.

"You know, you're not that much older than me. You're just ten," she countered.

"Ugh, you're such a pain, 'Zelma!" I groaned, walking upstairs.

I turned into the room I shared with Azelma and I saw my younger brother, Gavroche, sitting on my bed.

"Hey, Gav," I said to him.

He waved at me. Gavroche wasn't much of a talker. He was only about three, but he seldom talked. Perhaps he was afraid of mother. She didn't like Gavroche. Mother kept trying to convince Papa to give him away or send him with one of the people staying at the inn, but he wouldn't do it, thankfully. If he did that, I'd be stuck with Azelma...

"Look what I found at the market today," I said, showing him the doll.

"Pretty..." he told me.

"Mmmhmm, I didn't even have to pay for it!" I said excitedly.

Gavroche grinned, showing his missing teeth. Even at this young age, he understood Papa's business. He understood that we could get things for free if we lie and steal, so Papa used him a lot to get customers or to con many of the businesses that come in this time of year. That's the primary reason he didn't want to give Gavroche away. To lose him would be to lose a major selling point. But I loved Gavroche. He would listen to me, unlike Azelma, who only argued. The only thing I didn't like about him was that he actually talked to the wretch that lived with us. He actually liked the Lark. It was quite strange, but I was trying to steer him away from that bad influence.


	5. The Bargain

A few minutes later, I walked back downstairs, holding Gavroche's hand in mine. As we passed through the inn, moving closer to the front, we watched the customers stumble back and forth from their table to the bar. I steered Gavroche in between the sea of inebriates, trying to get to the front door, which I had discovered was standing wide open.

When we finally escaped from the hectic dining area of the inn, we saw mother and papa talking to a man. Azelma stood by the door, listening.

I walked up behind her. "What's happening?" I asked her.

She turned to me, looking slightly somber, and said, "They're trying to sell her."

"What? Who?" I asked, but she shushed me and kept listening.

"There is a promise I have made... to Cosette's mother," the man said. "Now her mother is with God," he said. Then he kneeled down to reach the child's level. "Fantine's suffering is over, so I have come here in her place"

Mother reached over and grabbed the girl, who was silently sobbing. The man stood up.

"I speak here with her voice. Now from this day and evermore, Cosette shall live in my protection," the man told mother and papa.

Papa looked at mother, them back at the man. "What to say? Shall you carry our treasure away? This child, she's our gem. Beyond rubies is our little girl."

"Monsieur, I will pay you if I must. I understand that Fantine was in a great deal of debt to you," the man said.

Papa gasped, as if what the man said was so terrible that it should have never been mentioned. "How can we speak of debt?! Let's not haggle for darling... Colette."

"Cosette," mother corrected.

"Right," papa agreed.

The man raised his eyebrows. "Your feelings do you credit, sir..." he said with a hint of sarcasm. "But I will ease the parting blow." The man reached into his coat and pulled out a roll of bills.

"No, no, Monsieur. We will not take your money. Our child is too precious to be paid for," papa said.

The man started to talk, but mother interrupted him. "One thing more! There are treacherous people about. No offense, but your intentions may not be correct..."

"No more words! Here is your price. Fifteen hundred for your... 'sacrifice'," the man said.

Papa turned to mother and then grabbed the roll of bills. "Goodbye, Courgette!"

"It's Cosette..." mother corrected again.

"She's not our problem anymore," papa said as the man walked off, Cosette in hand.


	6. Gavroche's Disappearance

**I'm not really sure how I feel about this chapter, but I had to make it happen. I promise the next one is better**.

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After the man took Cosette away, our household began to fall apart. Gavroche and I were put to work. Niether of us were accustomed to this type of work, and, in her absence, everyone began to appreciate the work that Cosette did for us. We never knew how hard it was, or how heavy a bucket of water could be.

Mother still pampered Azelma, though. Azelma was the perfect child. So respectful and kind. Unlike me, who, like the Lark, should be put to work. Gavroche and I swept and mopped side by side, and, eventually, our bond grew stronger. But then the inn went under.

We had to sell something. We had no money to buy food or firewood with. I went to the market every day to sell our old clothes. Soon we were left with only the clothes on our body. We feared the day when winter would once again arrive. We would have no heat because we could not afford firewood, and our bodies could not produce it because are clothes are thin, summer rags. Autumn was approaching rapidly, and after autumn was winter.

One day in, late autumn, papa took Gavroche to the market to help him carry things. Lord only knew what they were going to buy; they had no money. I was sweeping the floor by the front of the inn when papa arrived. He had no goods in his arms, and my brother was not trailing behind him.

"Papa, where's Gavroche?" I asked, worried.

"Gone," he replied simply.

"Gone where?" I asked, growing more fearful.

"How the hell should I know? I sold 'im off to one of the street vendors. Got a whole five 'undred francs!" papa told me, quite pleased with himself.

"Y-you what?" I asked timidly.

"You heard me, girl! Now get back to work, the floors don't sweep themselves!" he yelled, walking out of the room.

Tears flooded my eyes, and I ran upstairs. "'Zelma! 'Zelma!" I screamed frantically as I hurried into the room we shared.

"What, Éponine?" she asked, sounding very annoyed and looking at me like I had interrupted something.

"Papa, he went to the market, and-and he sold Gavroche!" I sputtered.

Azelma just stared at me in disbelief. She had never been close to Gavroche, but family is family. Azelma quickly wiped her eyes, which were slightly moist. I sat down beside her, and she just stared at me, mute. So we sat there, staring at each other, tears streaming down our faces, finally facing the first real pain in our lives, the first true loss.


	7. Rain Will Wash Away What's Past

Five hundred francs don't go very far-not as far as it used to, at least. When mid-winter arrived, the money was gone. Papa spent it on firewood and alcohol. No one came to our inn anymore because the economy was so bad, so our source of revenue was gone. Papa was always out these days, never doing anything productive. We assumed he was at taverns, squandering the little money we had left. No one knew anymore. No one cared. All anyone in this household cared about was themselves.

One day, when Azelma was huddled under a blanket trying to keep warm, and I was sweeping (after Gavroche was sold, I had become much like Cosette was previously. No one would talk to me, or look at me, or even acknowledge my presence. All I could eat were people's scraps. I was treated worse than an animal.) papa stumbled into the house, clearly intoxicated.

"We're movin' to Paris!" he slurred.

Everyone in the house froze. We were shocked into silence. Mother was the first to speak. "Paris? We cannot afford to live in Paris."

"I sol' the inn!" papa said in a garble.

"Excuse me?! How could you do that? Our home is here! Our life is here!" mother argued.

"Not anymore," papa replied. "Now go pack your things. We've got the carriage waiting outside."

Azelma and I looked at each other, knowing fully well that we had no belongings, nor would our lives change in Paris. I took her hand and walked her upstairs into our room.

"'Ponine... what're we gonna do?" she asked me.

I looked at her. "You heard what papa said. We're gonna pack our things."

"We don't have 'things'," she muttered.

"Do you see those bed sheets?" I asked her. Azelma nodded. "Those our our things. You will leave nothing in this house that could be of use," I continued.

Azelma nodded and started taking the sheets off of the bed.

"M-maybe things will change in Paris," she said, turning to me.

As I looked at her, I could see the pain in her eyes. The tears rolling down her cheeks revealed how much she really loved this home, no matter how cruel it had been to us.

"Sit down," I told her.

She complied and sat on the bed. I kneeled down in front of her.

"Some things have to change, 'Zelma," I begin. "Some changes are for the better and some are not. There's no way to tell which is which until the change is made."

She nodded meekly, trying to understand. I doubted that she could. She was still quite young. It pained me to see someone this young experiencing so much pain. Life had been harsh to her. I reached my hand up to Azelma's face and wiped the tears away, then I stood up.

"It's time to go, 'Zelma," I said softly.

She looked up at me with her innocent eyes, and she got up, grabbing the small bag that we had packed. We walked down the stairs and saw papa standing by the door.

"Well it took you long enough! Get in the carriage before the rain gets through the open door!" papa yelled at us.

We hurried into the carriage, not saying a word. I took a seat by the window and papa crawled in behind us.

I looked out of the window, which was soaked with rain, taking a glimpse at the inn I was raised in. It had been my home for so long, it was strange to think of what life would be without it. That's a bit silly, knowing that it is just an object, but it was all I knew of the world. It contained my entire past, from birth to the carriage ride. The house was like a part of me.

Soon, the rain washed over the window and I could see the house no longer. I wiped a small tear out of my eyes. Hope is a strange thing. You find it in the most bizarre places at the most bizarre times. At that moment, I felt hopeful. Life had only been cruel to my family, so we were cruel back. But maybe Azelma was right. Maybe Paris would prove to be a better place for us. Either way, the past is gone now; the rain washed it away.


End file.
